


I Just Want To Sleep.

by lizibabes



Series: MCR Bingo [5]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Depression, Exhaustion, M/M, Sex, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-27
Updated: 2011-12-27
Packaged: 2017-10-28 05:46:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/304394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizibabes/pseuds/lizibabes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for the prompt Tour: Black parade for MCR bingo and exhaustion for Dark bingo. Gerard is just so tired with all the hate, with all the people telling him he's making kids kill themselves. Physically and emotionally exhausted by the tour, he needs to remember why he started it all to begin with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Just Want To Sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: I_glitterz  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters in this story and as far as I’m aware this never happened.  
> I've never written this pairing before, so please give it a go and let me know what you think :) AU in that the boys are not married.

Gerard POV  
　  
He feels so tired, exhausted down to the bone. He can't seem to do anything but lay in his bunk on the bus. Even though the bus has stopped and everyone else has got off to get food, stretch their legs, he stays where he is, too exhausted to even think about moving, watching the black parade get twisted by the media and protest groups, it is taking all he has, his energy, his fight, his creativity. He feels like he has nothing left to give. Articles in the news claiming they’re making kids kill themselves, talking about how he's prompting suicide and self-harm like some kind of fucked up cult leader. He's a singer, a performer, he wants his music to make people feel, but he doesn't want to hurt them. The Black parade was never meant to be about any of the shit they're saying it is.   
　  
Suicide cult band, he can't believe that they are being called that, lyrics from Helena being used as examples of how they are pro-suicide, it's so fucked up. He never thought the black parade would be connected to anyone’s death, let alone a child. A thirteen year old girl from England, it's tragic in a way that makes his chest ache, thirteen is no age to die, to take your own life. It seems like such a waste and it hurts him that someone so young had been in enough pain to go that far. He hates that she had been hurting enough to kill herself. When he gets angry, he thinks why didn't her parent's notice, he knows they saw the self-harm, they should have done more before, not researched ‘emo’ after she dies. But he gets it, they lost their child, they probably blame themselves for a hundred different stupid reasons, but no one wants to blame themselves for that. So they're looking to place blame elsewhere. It's tragic, he wishes it hadn't happened, life is special, it shouldn't be wasted. He doesn't know what to think half the time, it hurts every time he thinks about it and he just wants to sleep all the time so that he doesn't have to think, but when he sleeps, he dreams.   
　  
He's not a cult leader. His band, none of them want people to hurt themselves. They've never even labelled themselves as emo, if emo kids like their music that's cool, but he doesn't aim it at them. The Black parade was never meant to glorify death, he put so much into the album, the tour that when people tear into it, tear it down, it feels like he's the one being torn into. There have been protestors, concerned parents convinced he'll drag their kids down to hell. Security have to keep the protesters away from the fans, he never imagined tour being this way. He loved it when it started, now he finds himself wishing it was over, he doesn't want to be here, doing this, feeling like this.  
　  
The band all keep looking at him with worried eyes, Mikey checks on him all the time. He knows his exhaustion worries them, he thinks maybe they're worried about him back sliding. He worked hard to get clean, he doesn't plan to use, but he has to admit he's thought about it. He's so tired, he sometimes thinks maybe just a drink would help, let him forget all the things they are saying about him. But he'll look at Mikey's worried face or remember how close he had come to killing himself when he'd been using and he knows he can't do it, can't use again.  
　  
When he hears footsteps, he assumes it's Mikey coming to check on him, but whoever it is knocks on the wall beside his bunk like it’s a door and Mikey wouldn't bother to knock, classic little brother behaviour.  
　  
"Who is it?" He's too tired to get up and look out past the flimsy curtain.   
　  
"It's Bob."   
　  
"Hey Bob." Gerard forces himself to sit up a little and he pulls the curtain back before laying back down again.   
　  
Bob is crouched down beside his bunk, he looks worried, same as everyone else has ever since all this shit started.  
　  
"You need to come eat." Bob tells him.  
　  
"I'm not hungry, I'm tired, I just want to sleep." Gerard argues.  
　  
"You’re looking thin and not just 'I lost some weight on tour thin' You need to eat, everyone's worried Gee." Bob sighs.  
　  
"I've not lost weight." The lie tastes like acid in his mouth, he doesn't lie to his band, he isn't that guy. He just doesn't want them to worry though. Almost everyone loses weight on tour, the Black parade is just another tour, tour life is the only reason he's losing weight. That's not true though, he knows it isn't, he feels so tired all the time that he doesn't even get hungry, all he feels is exhaustion.   
　  
"Don't lie to me, Gerard. You’re not good at it. I know the articles are hurting you. But don't let them do this to you, everyone knows it's bullshit." Bob says firmly.  
　  
"I'm so tired of the Black parade being twisted into something so ugly." Gerard admits.  
　  
"So untwist it." Bob suggests.  
　  
"What?" Gerard frowns.  
　  
"Do interviews, go out on stage and tell people what the Black parade means to you, what the tour’s all about. I think enough people know that the message will get passed on. We can't change everyone’s minds, some people will always believe what they want to, but don't let them gag you. You've always had a voice, Gerard, don't let some fucktards calling you a cult leader silence you." Bob growls and for the first time, he can see that Bob is really pissed off about this, angry in a way Gerard hasn't managed in weeks, too exhausted to get that angry.   
　  
"I don't think I have the energy to fight." Gerard admits.  
　  
"Come on Gerard, don't say that. Think about all the fans that do get what you meant them to out of the Black parade. It means so much to people, I mean look at all the people at your shows, wearing My Chemical Romance shirts, doing their make up like you. People love you, Gerard." Bob insists.  
　  
"People think I want children to kill themselves." Gerard sighs, he doesn't even bother to lift his head up to look at Bob properly, his body feels heavy with fatigue.   
　  
"Some people think that. But they are wrong, prove them wrong." Bob practically yells.   
　  
"I'm sick of everything being a fight. I'm sick of this tour." Gerard shrugs.  
　  
"Fuck that, Gerard. For every journalist of concerned parents group out there, you have a hundred more fans who you have helped. I see the letters you get sent, the messages and banners from kids who say you saved their life. That this band saved them, helps them feel better about their lives." Bob argues.   
　  
Bob's right, he does get stuff like that, he loves his fans, loves the idea that he is helping them. He wants to help people. His music was never meant to be something negative.   
　  
"What if they’re right? What if that little girl hung herself because of something she though she saw in my music?" Gerard asks, because that's probably what has been fucking with his head the most. Just because the Black parade isn't about self-harm or suicide, doesn't mean nobody read that into the songs. He's been touring with this a while, he loves the Black parade, but maybe somewhere along the way the message became unclear, he's tired from touring, exhausted by this situation. And he just doesn't want to have been the reason anyone hurt themselves.  
　  
"Gerard, the girl clearly had problems. Maybe she was depressed, maybe it was a cry for help, I don't know. But I don't think an album is the reason she killed herself, the songs aren't about suicide. Most of your fans know that. Hiding away from the world won't help anyone, Gerard, you need to go out and show people what the Black Parade is all about. I don't care if you just want to sleep, we need you to fight." Bob leans close, his hand on Gerard's arm like he's willing him to fight, to not give up on the Black parade.  
　  
"I'm not sure I know how." Gerard sighs.  
　  
"Gerard, you have always fought for what you believed in. You've always got up on stage, fuck what people think and gave your message. Just keep doing that. Look out into the audience and see all the people out there who love you, who you've helped be unique and not afraid. Please stop hiding, you’re not allowed to give up." Bob sighs.  
　  
"Not allowed?" Gerard repeats.  
　  
"I won't let you, the band won't let you." Bob shrugs.  
　  
"You can't make me." Gerard doesn't want to give up, but he doesn't really want to fight for things right now.  
　  
"Just really look at the audience tonight. Look at them, all made up and smiling, having the time of their lives; living. You help them live their lives to the fullest." Bob's hand on his arm slides a little, almost like he wants to pet Gerard's arm and it makes something in Gerard's stomach clench.  
　  
"I'll try." He agrees.  
　  
Bob leaves, but he comes back with a sandwich and he sits with Gerard until Gerard eats it. He goes out onto the stage that night and takes a long hard look at the audience. They're screaming, smiling, cheering. There are banners about him, the band, which member they love, stuff about the parade. There are fans in Black parade T-shirts, kids and adults with their faces painted up like his. They love this, they love this tour the way he does. They don't look depressed or like they want to hurt themselves. They look happy, so fucking happy to be here, listening to this music. He isn't hurting them. He talks about fighting that night, about pushing through exhaustion and fighting. He can't help looking back at Bob and smiling. When they get off stage, his ears still ringing from the cheers, he goes to Bob and hugs him and Bob just holds him close. He knew they were worried, but he didn't know how worried they were. He thinks maybe they were all more worried than he realised.   
　  
He rooms with Bob that night, but Mikey stays in their room with him till he's so tired he's almost falling asleep. Gerard texts Frank to come get him, drag him to bed. Mikey follows him like a sleepy child, it's kind of cute, Frank holds Mikey's hand and leads him like a puppy. He knows Frank will take care of Mikey and stop him from worrying himself sick. He waits till Frank and Mikey are gone before turning to Bob.   
　  
"Thanks, for convincing me to keep fighting." He smiles.  
　  
"No problem man, I'm just glad you’re going to fight. None of us wanted to lose you." Bob admits and he looks so sad Gerard gets up and goes to him without thinking, he's in Bob's bed with him and hugging him before he can even think about the fact it might freak Bob out, but he just pulls Gerard closer, hugging him back.   
　  
He knows he should let go, but he doesn't, staying in Bob's arms. He feels a little bit like he needs to fall apart, he's still tired, but he can see that it's going to get better. He's feeling a little stronger, a little more ready to fight. He's not sure when something changes and Bob's touch shifts from comforting on his back to something else. Gerard lifts his head up, meeting Bob's eyes and he can't help it, he has to kiss him. Bob responds instantly and hungrily, more dominating than Gerard had imagined and he has imagined. Bob had been there for him today, been strong for him and he thinks he can let Bob be the strong one here too. If Gerard falls apart, Bob will catch him, keep him together.   
　  
Bob rolls him onto his back, licking down to his jaw. Nipping gently, sucking at the hinge of his jaw and it makes Gerard moan and arch up. There's something about giving up control that just gets to him. He's been the one in charge, even though the whole band’s been being blamed, he's the one that's been painted as some kind of cult leader so he's the one who's been attacked the most. He's been in charge of fighting, he's the one the press asks about emo and poor too young dead girls. He's felt so responsible for everything lately, it's nice to just lay back and give control over to someone else.  
　  
Bob slides his hands up under Gerard's T-shirt, his hands rubbing warm over his skin, his nipples.   
　  
"Can I take this off?" Bob asks, tugging at his T-shirt. Gerard nods, not trusting his voice right now.   
　  
Bob strips his shirt off, throwing it off of the bed, then he dips his head, his lips closing around one of Gerard's nipples, sucking till he's moaning, arching up into the wet heat, he feels like he has no control over his own body, but it's okay, he's giving it over to Bob, he can have the control. Bob starts rubbing over his nipple firmly with his thumb. Gerard moans again, his head falling back as he pants. He's never felt so worked up over someone playing with his chest before. He's been so tense, he can't even remember the last time he got off, the last time he even though about it. But he's rock hard in his pyjama pants, his hips thrusting as he ruts against Bob's thigh.  
　  
"Bob." Gerard moans, feeling shaky, his skin too hot.  
　  
Bob's hand slips to his waist and he looks up at Gerard again.  
　  
"Can I?" Bob asks looking more nervous than he had when asking about Gerard's shirt.  
　  
"Yeah, take them off." Gerard nods and Bob doesn't hesitate, stripping his pants off, he's not wearing any underwear, so it leaves him completely naked underneath a fully clothed Bob.  
　  
"You’re beautiful." Bob says softly, his hands brushing down Gerard's sides, over his hips and Gerard shivers and blushes.   
　  
He dips down, his lips soft and warm against Gerard as he kisses him slowly. Gerard slips his hands underneath Bob's shirt, wanting to feel skin, not cotton under his hands. Bob seems to get the hint, breaking the kiss just long enough to strip off his T-shirt and his pants, he hesitates a second before tugging off his boxers and Gerard can't help but stare. He wants to lick every bit of skin he can see, but Bob is running the show here. Bob kisses him again, his naked cock rubbing along Gerard's stomach, Gerard arches into it, wanting more, needing to feel more.   
　  
Bob's hands are soft but firm as they touch him, he's never felt so taken care of in his life and he needs that right now, he really needs it. When Bob shifts down the bed, between Gerard's legs and sucks on his hipbone, he curses. Bob sucks on two of his own fingers and then circles Gerard's hole, watching his face the whole time. One finger goes it pretty easy as relaxed as Bob has him feeling, two burn a little, but it feels good, the stretch making him squirm. A third finger has him moaning non-stop, begging for more.  
　  
"Bob, Bob, please Bob give me more, please." Gerard pants, he doesn't care if Bob gets him off like this, fingers up his ass, maybe a hand on his dick, he just needs to get off. He wants to feel Bob inside of him, really feel him. So he's pretty damn glad when Bob pushes between his thighs, leaning to one side and grabbing moisturiser off the side. He squirts some out onto his hand, coating his cock.  
　  
"I don't have a condom, we don't have to, we can do something else." Bob says softly.  
　  
"I'm clean, if you are. I, ah, want to do this." He trusts Bob, wants to be with him, feel him like this.  
　  
"I'm clean too." Bob promises.  
　  
"I want this." Gerard pleads, he needs to feel something purely good and moments later he does. Bob kisses him even as he's pushing inside, firm steady pressure, a little bit of a burn mixed in with the pleasure. He wraps his legs around Bob's waist, pulling Bob closer, not wanting slow, not wanting to wait. Bob seems to read him pretty well, thrusting hard and fast, plowing into Gerard, just a little bit rough and it's fucking perfect.   
　  
He can't think about anything past how good it feels, mind lost in the feelings Bob is causing. Pleasure and hot in his blood and he just can't get enough of it, of any of it. He kisses Bob, sucking on his tongue the same way he would suck on a cock. Bob holds him close the whole time, like he wants to crawl inside Gerard's skin and lose himself in Gerard the same way Gerard is getting lost in him. It's fast and a little frantic and it is exactly what he needs. He's close to orgasm faster than he though could be possible, close even though Bob isn't touching his cock, he thinks he's going to need to beg for more to push him over the edge, beg for Bob's hand on his dick. Before he gets the words out though, he's cumming as Bob thrusts hard against his prostate, he sees stars, screaming out Bob's name. Bob grunts, hips stuttering , he can feel it when Bob cums, he's never gone bare with anyone before and it's shockingly intimate. Bob's arms wrap around him, caging him in, holding him close as they both drift in the after-glow, it makes him feel safe. Bob makes him feel taken care of in a way he didn't know he needed. They break apart eventually, cleaning up and putting their pants back on before they get into bed. Bob kisses him, slow and deep and it makes Gerard's heart leap in his chest.  
　  
"I'm glad you’re going to fight. You don't have to do it alone. We all believe in the Black parade, in the message. I have your back." Bob promises, kissing him softly.   
　  
Gerard just smiles, he had kind of forgotten he wasn't alone in this, he has his band, his family and all the fans who know the Black parade isn't about hurting yourself. And with all that at his back, on his side, no matter how exhausted he gets, he knows he won't give up. He's going to keep fighting, the Black parade isn't dead yet.  
　  
The End.


End file.
